Electra's Choice
by Rina2
Summary: Electra is saved from making the biggest mistake of her life, by the cat she'd least expect.


Electra's Choice  
  
By Rina  
  
Electra looked at the jagged piece of glass in her paw. Uncertainty flickered across her tear-streaked face. Did she really want to do this?  
  
*Wake up, stupid!* she thought angrily. *What do you have to live for?*  
  
She used to think the answer was the Rum Tum Tugger. But he'd sure set that record straight. Electra's resolve came back tenfold as she thought of his words.  
  
His expression had become bemused and a little amused as he gazed thoughtfully at her, thinking of an answer to the question she now realized to be so kittenish: Would he be her mate?  
  
"Well- I'm sorry to say this, babe-" His eyes, those gorgeous eyes, took a two-way trip down the full length of her body- "but, do I know you?"  
  
Electra had barely been able to restrain herself from a full-fledged gasp- her paw had almost flown to her throat like a character in one of those cheesy human movies Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer sometimes set up for the Jellicles.  
  
But miraculously (thank Bast), she'd managed to keep both of these things from happening. The only indication of what she'd come so close to doing was a small choked sigh that Tugger didn't even notice. *And why would he?* she thought bitterly. He hadn't even noticed she had any breath for life in her miserable body, much less for a sigh.  
  
Before he could read these thoughts in her shocked face, she pointed to Etcetera and Jemima, watching from the top of the Old Ford. "Sorry- it was just a dare from- from my friends." Actually, they¡d barely even noticed she i liked /i the Rum Tum Tugger. They rarely noticed anything about her anymore, not since Victoria had come to the Junkyard. Her white fur, fancy collar, and rubber legs had fascinated them, and she hadn't helped by doing a Solo Dance every 5 seconds with any tom who wasn't already so sick of the idea that he'd rather throw himself at a rabid Pollicle. Sure, she could be nice, but Electra sometimes wish she'd either get down off her high horse or someone would take her down themselves. It i could /i be due to the fact that Victoria had stolen her best friends, but whatever it was, Electra couldn't be deterred from seeing the real cat under the flashy diamond collar.  
  
The Tugger had laughed, the sound shattering her thoughts like a ball thrown at a window. "OK- I didn't think a kitten like you could be serious about something like that anyway. See ya around-" He'd cocked his head quizzically, waiting for her to take her cue.  
  
"Electra," she'd supplied weakly.  
  
Chucking the chin she was hard-pressed to keep from quivering with pent-up tears, he'd turned and walked- no, swaggered- away, humming something that Electra had recognized to be his theme song even through her haze of grief.  
  
Looking up, Electra¡s watery eyes had met with those of Jemima and Etcetera. They stared at each other, Electra trying to smile, the other two not even attempting to mask their wide-eyed sympathy. "Oh, Electra-" Jemima had finally started hopelessly.  
  
Electra had laughed, a sound that escalated into something like a cry. "Well, at least he knows who I am now," she said, shrugging. No big deal. She'd only been planning for months and trying to get the courage to carry it out in an equal amount of time. But don't worry, ole Electra don't care! Don't be silly! Why i would /i she care? Say, does she even have feelings?  
  
Feeling their eyes on her rigid back all the while, Electra went into a kind of tripping walk which consisted of her trying not to run.  
  
As soon as they couldn't see her anymore (or maybe they did, did it matter?) she had started to run. She didn't run very fast at first, just enough so the footsteps that echoed in her head drowned out the voice of the Tugger, saying over and over again, "Sorry, babe- do I know you?" Then it had turned into a full-fledged sprint. "Hey, Electra, where's the fire?" Pouncival had called.  
  
"Up your a**!" Electra had felt it would be appropriate- and satisfying- to respond, but was past him before she could. Now she realized she was lucky she was the only one who'd seen her. Anyone else might have been smart enough to investigate.  
  
Finally, she'd found it- the old rocking chair. Not the one the infamous Pouncival knew so well- this one was hers . And what was so good about that was this rocking chair had a cushion. Tattered (that was for sure), but soft. And as far as she could tell (and she felt she knew pretty well, she was there practically all day most of the time), it was only hers.  
  
Collapsing into the chair, Electra had let it rip- all those tears she had never allowed herself to cry for what Victoria had so unwittingly stolen from her 5 months ago, and the considerable amount she had for what had happened 5 minutes ago.  
  
So it was much, much later that Electra had looked up long enough for her eye to fall upon the piece of glass that the dying sun had glinted off of so invitingly. Well, one of them. There were many pieces, all that appeared to be from a human beer bottle.  
  
It was so perfect- no one knew she was here, no one would know she was here for a while, and by the time they did, she'd be dead and gone.  
  
Dead.  
  
And gone.  
  
Where?  
  
She supposed she'd go to the Heavyside Layer, but she wasn't sure if that was a special privilege reserved for the cats Jellicle leaders chose to go up, or for clinically depressed cats who decided to kill themselves on a whim.  
  
Something told her it was the first one.  
  
She didn't like this life, that was for sure, but what was there in oblivion to like, if that was where she was going?  
  
Wasn't there anything she still had to do here?  
  
She had to do it now. If she thought about it any longer, she'd lose her nerve, and she'd die without memories of a loving mate, without kittens, without friends, glad that it could all finally be over, and hating herself for making herself wait for nothing years ago.  
  
Electra raised the glass.  
  
"Stop," said a worn but firm voice from the shadows.  
  
The glass fell from Electra's startled paw, shattering on the concrete below. Electra didn't notice because she was busy staring incredulously at the gray queen that had stepped out of the shadows which seemed to cling to her tired face.  
  
"Grizabella?" Electra was confused. "You're not supposed to be here."  
  
"You're not supposed to be doing that." the old cat threw back.  
  
Electra looked away from the sad eyes which so mirrored her own. "If you knew what I'd be going back to if I didn't, you wouldn't think so."  
  
The queen which had always seemed so elegant to Electra in spite of her piteous age now snorted like a pig. "Don't you think i I've /i had that thought more than once?  
  
"That's what I'm afraid of!" Electra said. "No offense, but I wouldn't want to grow up to be like you, waiting for death because it's probably better than life."  
  
"At least I was brave enough to try and see."  
  
Electra narrowed her eyes at the old queen, who held her gaze. "This i is /i brave! Not many cats would be tough enough to take their own lives."  
  
"From what I could see, you had your doubts about it."  
  
Electra sighed in frustration. "Well, it's not something you wake up in the morning and decide to do! You have to think about it!"  
  
"Well, maybe you should take your own advice. Your life is a long time. It's worth more than the few seconds' thought you appear to have given it."  
  
"You think you know so much about me!" Electra burst out angrily. "How can you tell all that?"  
  
The queen looked away for the first time she¡d made her presence known. "Because I was the same way once," she answered quietly.  
  
"And look what you are now!" Electra cried.  
  
The queen's head jerked back around so quickly it was almost as thought it was on a string. "It got better after that!" she cried. "Much better. The problem with me is what I did when it did get better!"  
  
"How do you know that it will get better with me?" Electra demanded.  
  
"I don't. You'll just have to wait some more to see that," Grizabella said.  
  
The angry, self-righteous look that Electra had on her face suddenly collapsed into one almost as old-looking as Grizabella herself's. That look was gone almost as soon as it had come though, and Electra was soon just a young queen crying her heart out again.  
  
Grizabella lurched towards Electra, longing to comfort her as no one had comforted Grizabella during her night almost exactly like this one.  
  
An old toaster's electrical cord tripped the already-fragile queen, however, and as she fell, Grizabella tried to shove the beer-bottle shard out from under her stomach with her paw, but succeeded only in pushing it directly under her heart.  
  
As the shard found its mark, the only and last sound from the old queen's vocal cords that would have won her a ticket to the Heavyside Layer next Jellicle Ball was one strangled, short scream.  
  
Not having many tears left from the crying jag she'd had only a couple of hours ago, Electra's sobs had died down to occasional heaving sniffles, and the sound was not lost on the young queen.  
  
"Grizabella?" Electra whispered, thinking at first that she was merely unconscious or that the queen was crying herself. Then- as she jumped down from her rocker, setting it into motion- "Grizabella!"  
  
The only sound as Electra realized the terrible reality that would haunt her until the day she died was the creaking of the old rocker.  
  
THE END 


End file.
